


My Boy(Toy)

by D34THR4C3R



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Conditioning, Consent Issues, Extremely Underage, M/M, Pedophilia, Prompt Fill, Shota, raising a child for sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:00:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3763888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D34THR4C3R/pseuds/D34THR4C3R
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for this prompt at Kingsman Kink Meme (Dressing Room 3): http://dressing-room3.livejournal.com/405.html?thread=598165#t598165</p>
<p>Summary:<br/>Right after the death of Eggsy's father, Harry takes Eggsy to raise him. He sexually grooms and conditions Eggsy into the perfect companion- submissive, eager to please, and not afraid of danger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: One Month Deep

Harry doesn't plan to take the boy; he means to go to Lee's widow and offer her aid in her time of hardship. But she's such a mess, the poor dear, that Harry isn't sure she can manage the burden of being a single mother. And when he turns to the boy, the sweet little thing so quiet and unobtrusive, he can't help himself, Harry wants to do the right thing.

So Harry takes the child from its mother and Harry decides to keep the child for his very own.

How exactly they got to here, with Harry's thumb up the boy's ass and his cock head smearing precum across the boy's cheekbones, Harry isn't sure. He's sure he's been seduced; little Eggsy Unwin, with his puppy eyes and sly smiles, his hairless body, so small and delicate, but so resilient, Eggsy stole Harry's heart and Harry wants so badly to reciprocate that love.

Harry presses his thumb against Eggsy's inner wall, digging into the bump that makes Eggsy kick out his little legs and shout: “Oh, oh!”

“If you're good tonight, my love, I'll let you have the vibrator when you sleep.” Harry keeps his voice soft just for Eggsy. Eggsy was scared of the toys when they first began to consummate their love, but they are a necessary evil. When they are pressed together, Harry's cock measures from Eggsy's tiny cocklet all the way up to his nipples. If Harry didn't keep Eggsy filled with something, even something as inconsequential as Harry's thumb, Eggsy might be hurt, might tear or weep, when Harry is ready to push his cock into Eggsy's impossibly tight ass. 

A gentleman never lets his lover suffer, unless his lover asks him to. Harry would like to see Eggsy beg for a bit of pain, a spanking or a rough fuck (Harry's instincts over ride his etiquette when it comes to fantasies of fucking Eggsy). Perhaps, with patience, Harry can get his fist inside of sweet Eggsy. They have time, all the time in the world, in fact. Eggsy isn't going anywhere.

Eggsy's eye roll back a little and his mouth makes an O; it's an invitation to Harry and he pushes his cock past Eggsy's lips. Eggsy, squirming around Harry pushing into him at both ends, suckles the head of Harry's cock. It didn't take long for Eggsy to learn to never use his teeth. They practiced four times a day for that first week they were lovers, until Eggsy could do it blindfolded or half asleep or any time Harry wanted him to. They're working on the next step now. Harry pushes his cock deeper into Eggsy mouth, until Eggsy gags and Harry pulls back, just a bit, just letting the meaty weight of his swollen cock sit in Eggsy's hardworking mouth.

Harry adds a finger to his thumb and jabs at Eggsy's prostate, chuckling when Eggsy squeals, such a lovely vibration on Harry's cock. “Tonight, I'll cum in your sweet little ass and lick it all out again. I'll suck my cum our of your tight little asshole and spit back into your mouth. A treat for my sweet boy. Would you like that, my love?”

Eggsy sucks hard as he looks straight up at Harry. And there is nothing more beautiful than his precious boy toy, eyes shining, a little smirk trying to pull around the wide girth of Harry's cock, looking like he wants everything that Harry has to offer.

And Harry is going to give him everything. The world, on a platter. He's already gotten Eggsy the proper attire of a little gentleman, right down to a pair of Oxfords specially made for Eggsy child proportions. And this is how this night started: Harry peeling the layers of a new suit off of his perfect, enthusiastic boy toy. Someday Eggsy will be perfection. “A little more, sweetheart.” Harry, again, pushes his cock to the back of Eggsy mouth, but when Eggsy gags, Harry doesn't pull away.

He strokes Eggsy's hair, downy and dark, and cups the back of Eggsy's head. “Good boy.” Eggsy's eyes water and spill but he doesn't fight it. Not anymore.

No, now he's good and always ready. Eggsy loves Harry, he tells him so. Harry loves Eggsy, he shows him so. Harry pulls his cock out of Eggsy's mouth; it wouldn't do to cum so soon, not when he just promised Eggsy a treat.

Eggsy coughs and he moves his hands out from under him, letting himself fall into Harry's lap. He wraps his arms, slightly pudgy from his extreme youth, around Harry's hard middle and nuzzles into Harry's stomach, his chin rubbing at the start of Harry's pubic hair. Harry watches fondly as Eggsy kisses Harry just below his navel. His cock justs up past Eggsy's ear and Eggsy turns rub his cheek along Harry's shaft.

“Will you, please, Harry?” Eggsy's accent is charming, a reminder of what Harry rescued him from, and his pleading voice, hoarse from today's practice sessions, make Harry comply with all his demands.

“Of course, my love.” Harry knows what Eggsy wants now. He pulls his fingers out of Eggsy and uses both hands to flip his boy around, until Eggsy is on his back and Harry's is between his legs. Harry grabs his ankles and pushes his legs until Eggsy's knees are by his ears. Ah, the talents of youth. Harry let's go of one leg, catching it the crook of his elbow as he momentarily grabs himself to line up with Eggsy's hole.

It's slow going, a long slide into a small, tight place. Eggsy immediately scrunches his eyes shut and grits his teeth but Harry tuts and leans forward until Eggsy is truly bent right in half. It's easier to kiss him this way. A peck to each closed eye and then a kitten lick to Eggsy's lips. It's a signal, a reminder for Eggsy to relax. It's going to happen one way or another and it's better for everyone if Eggsy just accepts it; all of it, pain and pleasure and the inevitability of Harry's love.

Eggsy lets out a big sigh and throws his arms around Harry's neck, holding on for dear life. “Please, Harry, please?” Because he's a child he doesn't know what exactly to ask for. Harry finds it unbelievably charming.

And he understands that Eggsy is sweetly begging for Harry to ram his cock into his tender hole until he screams and orgasms. When Eggsy is finally old enough to cum, Harry will celebrate by sucking his sweetheart dry.

And then he'll lock up that tiny cocklet and only let it out for special occasions. That's how Harry intends to keep order in their house. But for now, Eggsy can cry and shake and tremble and moan and swoon and have everything he wants.

Harry fucks Eggsy hard, throwing his full length into his little boy, seeing the tip of cock bulge in Eggsy's soft, flat tummy. Eggsy shrieks, like he always does, and groans and babbles, saying Harry's name and some other things that make no sense. Eggsy throws his head back and Harry takes advantage of the angle to practice kissing Eggsy deeply. Eggsy is too uncoordinated to much more than open his mouth wide and let Harry lick in, but Harry doesn't mind. Eggsy is hot and too tight and Harry is in love.

The mattress is banging into the wall and Eggsy is struggling to breath and Harry feels his balls tighten and then, just as Harry thinks, my, what a sight, as Eggsy looks about to faint, Harry cums like a surprise, long spurts that don't stop for a while, leaking cum from his cock is plugging up his boy.

Eggsy is trapped in the cave that Harry's body makes as it lays on top of him but he never complains. He's smiling, lazy and sated and hazy, up at Harry. Harry pulls out roughly, suddenly, and drop his face to Eggsy's swollen, reddened hole. Harry laps his lips around it and sucks hard. Eggsy grunts and pants, and together they make a rhythm, Eggsy's labored breath and Harry sucking his cum out of his baby's abused asshole.

Mouth full, Harry rises, and smiles serenely, tight lipped at Eggsy. Eggsy, a bit woozy now, giggles and then opens his mouth as wide as he can, like a baby bird does for its mother. Harry looms over Eggsy's face and lets his own cum drip out of his lips and onto Eggsy's waiting tongue. His darling boy toy eats it all up and then leans forward, asking silently and Harry obliges, opening his mouth so Eggsy can lick it up the last drops of cum.

Finished, Eggsy licks his lips and lays back against the soiled duvet. “Thank you, Harry.” A well taught paradigm of good manners.

“You are very welcome, my love.” Harry arranges himself with Eggsy pressed against his side, Harry's fingers making circles over Eggsy's babyfat tummy. “Now, sweetie, for bed, which toy would you like?”

Crinkling his eyes, so cute, Eggsy grins, and answers, “Harry's fingers!”

Little minx! But how can he be denied? “Alright, dear, roll over and let's have some sleep.” Harry waits until Eggsy has turned his back to Harry. Spooning up behind his boy, who fits so perfectly curled into Harry, twice his size, Harry drops a hand between them, between the boy's cheeks, and slots three fingers inside Eggsy's pulsating hole. They get comfortable and fall asleep whispering I love you into the dark.


	2. Chapter 1: The Earliest Weeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little Eggsy moves into Harry's house.

Little Gary Unwin is small for his age but just the right height in Harry's mind; he'll always be just right to Harry, even if he grows. People, or rather Gary's mother, call little Gary 'Eggsy', which is silly but appropriate. When Eggsy is older, perhaps an adult, Harry will change the pet name to something more gentlemanly. But for now, leaving Michelle Unwin's house, Harry says: “It will be just fine, Eggsy,” as he carries little Eggsy away. Eggsy clings to Harry's lapel, and Harry holds him tight. “You're safe,” Harry says to the beautiful, sad child in his arms. Harry forgets that there was nothing for the child to fear.

The boy doesn't have a father now, but he has Harry. That's even better.

Merlin has pulled the car around, and it waits, slick and black and unassuming, and it swallows up Harry and Eggsy and then bears them away, Merlin driving them home, to Harry's little yellow house. Eggsy sits beside Harry in the backseat, buckled up, and though he's facing the window, his hand, small and warm, slides blindly to Harry's leg and presses his knuckles against Harry's thigh. Harry takes that hand in his own, engulfing it, and that is how they remain for the rest of the ride.

Quietly they park and exit the vehicle, no need for luggage to be dragged up the stairs; Harry didn't bring anything of Eggsy's old life here. The boy will start anew, under the careful tutelage of Harry Hart. Merlin kindly bids them adieu, and Harry asks Eggsy to wave goodbye to Mr. Merlin. Eggsy waves with one hand and with the other he never lets go of Harry; his hand twists in Harry's to grab Harry's thumb and grip it tight. Merlin and the black sedan disappear around the corner and Harry and Eggsy go inside.

Eggsy's rightfully nervous, this is all very new, and the deeper they go into the house, the closer Eggsy moves to Harry. By the time they're to the bedroom, Eggsy has pressed his whole body against Harry's leg. Graceful Harry doesn't stumble over his new boy. 

“My house is very small,” with his free hand Harry gestures from one homey wall to the other, “but it's just the perfect size for two.” He leads them into the guest room and to the bed, where he sits on its edge and gathers Eggsy onto his lap. “This is your home now, Eggsy.” One hand is still holding Eggsy's hand, and Harry's other hand is rubbing Eggsy's back.

Eggsy looks like he might cry, and no one can be blamed for that. It's been a long, sad day. The time is taken to just sit for a moment and be consoled. It's quiet and the setting sun slants through the window and catches dust. Eggsy is a welcome weight, a comforting warmth on Harry. It feels good to be still. Harry rests his cheek on the top of Eggsy's head and Eggsy presses his face into Harry's chest, just above his heart.

They stay like that for quite sometime, Harry ridiculously happy to have someone share his home, until Eggsy begins to fidget and whimper. Dinner and bed for now and real life can wait until morning, Harry decides. He sets Eggsy on his feet and takes his hand again. “It's this way to the kitchen,” Harry says when they're in the hall.

Eggsy digs his his feet in; Harry feels a tug and looks down to see Eggsy pouting. “Mr. Hart,” Eggsy wibbles, “I have to... I mean...”

Harry admires the polite address, and does not fail to notice the way Eggsy crosses his legs. “Oh,”' Harry says to himself, “I see.” A quick about turn, no longer heading to the kitchen, “The toilet is just across the way from the bedroom. Here you go.” Harry opens the door and ushers Eggsy inside. He doesn't follow the child all the way in but Eggsy stops dead in the center of the small chamber and though Harry can't see his face, he imagines he must be staring, gob-smacked.

Harry's butterfly collection will do that to first time visitors. Or sometimes the stuffed terrier is all they notice. It's hard to tell which Eggsy is taking in. Lee did mention that Eggsy was fond of dogs, always chasing after wayward puppies in the park. “His name is Mr. Pickle,” Harry elucidates, guessing at Eggsy's focus. “No, go on, and wash your hands after.”

He shuts the door and waits. He can't help himself, his mind goes to picking at the loose strings of the mission that killed Eggsy's father. Lee Unwin was a great man and Harry will honor his memory and repay his excellent service by giving all the love he has to Lee's legacy. Eggsy will never want for affection or an earthly trappings.

Eggsy comes out, snapping Harry out of his reverie. He's washed his face, though his eyes still shine wetly. Eggsy smiles shyly and Harry smiles back, as warm as can be. “Come now.” Harry takes up Eggsy's hand again. “You're the guest, so you may decide what we have for dinner.”

While Harry hopes Eggsy doesn't say something gauche like McDonald's, he is taken aback by the sincere way in which Eggsy answers: “I want what you want.”

Harry wants Eggsy to be happy, to at least not be so sad. He sighs and concedes defeat. “A Happy Meal? Because it's a special occasion.”

Eggsy lights up that, a subtle brightening of his pretty face. That's not something you can order in so hand in hand they go to the front door and Harry has Eggsy wait there while he goes to his bedroom and finds the smallest sweater he has. There's one from his training days, in the very bottom of the drawer, with a moth bite or two, but it will do. Navy blue and itchy, he pulls it over Eggsy's head and tries not to chuckle at the sight of Eggsy wearing what looks like a woolen dress on his small form.

Tomorrow they will go to Lock & Co and have some things made to the proper size. But for now, Eggsy will be warm enough to be outside just after sunset. Harry will keep the top up on Aston Martin, to keep the wind from chilling Eggsy.

“What do you think I should have?” Harry asks they make their way to the garage.

“A Big Mac?” Eggsy ponders, just before his eyes go wide at seeing Harry's car.

They don't drive many luxury sports cars in Lee's neighborhood. Having the very best is just something Eggsy will have to get used to. Harry will make sure of that.

“Yes, I think that sounds just right. A Big Mac and a Happy Meal, to celebrate when Gary Unwin moved into Harry Hart's house.” Harry buckles Eggsy in and as he gets in the car himself, he sees the smile and upturned eyes, long lashes, coy, and Harry takes the smallest of moments to admire his ward.

Ward. That doesn't sound right. It is correct, but not right. It lacks affection. Intimacy.

Oh well. The proper word will come to him, in time. For now, he's going to indulge in a night out to a terrible food place with some wonderful, albeit very young, company, and worry about the fussy details later.

 

Eggsy is put to bed in the guest room (after being reminded where the toilet is, and shown where to get a towel in the morning) with one of Harry's undershirts to wear as pyjamas. Harry goes to his own bedroom and goes through his nightly ritual, putting things away, hung in the closet, the cuff-links in a silver clamshell on the dresser; finally stripped bare he climbs between the sheets and sighs happily as he drifts to sleep.

Deep in the night, a noise wakes him, and his instincts propel him to his door, pulling his Browning Hi-Power from it's secret place. And then he focuses on the sound. A little knock, timid and light, and a little voice, scared and alone: “Mr. Hart? Mr. Hart, are you awake?”

Harry, as quick as a viper strike, stashes the gun back and pulls on some pants. He opens the door slowly, to not rattle Eggsy, who is standing hunched, wiping his eyes and sniffling, looking every bit the lost puppy. Harry drops to one knee to look Eggsy in the face. He puts his hands on the child's shoulders and asks, “What's wrong, Eggsy? Was it a nightmare?”  
Eggsy just nods and steps closer, folding himself into the space beneath Harry's chin. Harry wraps his arms around the boy, cradling him between his knees.

“May I...” Eggsy begins, but stops, still shy. Harry hums a single, soothing note, and Eggsy tries again: “May I sleep here? With you?”

“Of course, dear boy,” Harry can't deny him. “I'll always be available to slay your monsters. That's why you're here. So I can keep you safe.” Now that your father is gone.

Harry hefts him up, carrying him like a little bride, and puts him on the bed, in the sheets. Harry climbs in, over the sheets but under the covers. This is their first night together. Some propriety must be shown. Harry lays down and, peeking at Eggsy to make sure he's settled, closes his eyes and calms his heart.

Sometime later, closer to dawn, instinct wakes him again, a small movement in the room. It's Eggsy, fast asleep, moving closer, curling into the hollow of Harry's body. It's very sweet. Harry follows his instinct and spoons Eggsy, offering him warmth and solid reminder that someone is here, for him.

It's really rather nice. Something Harry could gladly get used to.

 

And it turns out he does. This becomes a habit for Eggsy, to be put in the little bedroom that was made up just for him, and then after some random amount of time, to come into Harry's room to sleep and be held.

Eventually Harry gives up the pretense and there comes a night when he doesn't bother taking Eggsy to the guest room. It's straight to Harry's room to be tucked in, tucked into Harry's embrace. Harry's heard this is called spooning. Big spoon, little spoon; Harry likes that. Like a nursery rhyme. Appropriate, given Eggsy's age.

They sleep under the sheets together, Harry in his usual state of undress and Eggsy in an undershirt of Harry's, though Eggsy does get tangled up in all the loose fabric, so after a few nights Harry doesn't offer Eggsy a shirt or anything for a nightgown, and instead just ushers him unclothed into the bed. Eggsy doesn't hesitate; his extreme youth prevents the body shyness that usual sets in a puberty. And Harry will mold Eggsy into the perfect shape, fit to be a Kingsman, with a body of which they can both be proud. 

The near nudity does complicate matters, just a bit. If it's hot in the room when they spoon, their skin sometimes gets sticky, and they peel apart in the morning. Harry doesn't have a solution other than to turn the heat off at night, but that solves it. Now it's so cold he can really squeeze Eggsy to him tight. His boy's body heat is like a natural sleep aide.

Although the occasionally squirming is not. Eggsy's shoulder blades sometimes rub at Harry's chest, and the tingling it causes in his nipples keeps him awake. Not to mention that the perfect way Eggsy slots against Harry's body leaves no room between them. His sweet bedmate's bum sits and wiggles just over Harry's cock. He can't ignore that, awake or asleep, and sometimes come morning, Eggsy is softly pleading with Harry to quit poking him. It's playful, the way Eggsy says stop, but keeps moving around in Harry's hold. It's obvious Eggsy doesn't really want him to stop.

Since Eggsy doesn't really mind the poking, Harry awakes one morning, after a week of getting used to sleeping with another (much smaller, much wigglier) person and his normal morning erection is pressed along the cleft of Eggsy's little bum and Eggsy is sound asleep and Harry is only half awake and completely content, and he doesn't think anything of it, Harry rolls his hips, undulating his cock against Eggsy's clothed ass. No harm done. He isn't so rough as to wake Eggsy; it's a gentle rocking until he cums, quietly sated, a wet mess on Eggsy's back. He leans behind him to the nightstand and finds a handkerchief in the drawer. He's wiping up his spend when Eggsy begins to writhe and the little boy turns himself around to face Harry.

“That tickles,” is all he says, with his sleepy smile and mussed hair.

Harry can't help himself, again. He kisses Eggsy's forehead and apologizes. It feels right to do so. And there's something in the way they're breathing the same air, faces only inches apart, skin against skin, that has Harry's cock twitching back to life. But he's happy to ignore it and focus on what's right in front of him. Little Eggsy Unwin, who hasn't been sad or had a nightmare in two weeks. Little Eggsy Unwin, who is unbearably beautiful in the weak morning light. Little Eggsy Unwin, in Harry Hart's bed, exactly where Eggsy asked to be. Exactly where Harry wants him to be.


End file.
